


An Angel Incarnate

by 912luvjaxlean



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Episode: s03e03 Murder and Mozzarella, Gen, Missing Scene, july 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 13:49:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15487209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/912luvjaxlean/pseuds/912luvjaxlean
Summary: Mr. Butler takes on the role of Cupid to miraculously fix things between Miss Fisher and her Inspector.





	An Angel Incarnate

**Author's Note:**

> "Mr. Butler, you are an angel incarnate." Phryne Fisher

Scene: The kitchen at Wardlow. Mr. Tobias Butler turned a piece of wrinkled paper over and over in his hands as he stood and waited. Suddenly, a policeman’s knock was heard on the back door. Detective Inspector Jack Robinson entered with a somber expression and a weary tread.

“Here I am, as requested, Mr. Butler," Jack said in a serious tone. "What is the urgent matter you rang me about?"

 “I’m concerned about Miss Fisher, sir.”

“Why? Has something happened?” He asked with alarm.

“Well, to be frank, she’s been staying home at night all alone. You haven’t been around for your usual nightcap. And, the Italian opera recordings are going non-stop. I must add that the level in the whiskey carafe has been significantly lowered as well.”

“I see. I’m not sure what to make of it, Mr. Butler,” said Jack with a furrowed brow.

“And, there is this,” Mr. Butler handed Jack a crumpled piece of paper. “It’s written to you, sir.”

“And, it was discovered where?” Jack asked as he fondled the paper, which appeared to be a piece of Miss Fisher's stationery.

“I found it when I was tidying up the drawing room. It was under Miss Fisher’s desk. I believe she meant to dispose of it in the wastepaper basket. I realize that it seems more than my duty requires, but I saw your name on the paper and thought you might need to see it.”

“And, you read this?” Jack asked anxiously.

“Only your name, Inspector.”

Jack knew Mr. Butler was lying. Mr. Butler knew that Jack knew that he was lying. And they both knew that the best way to save face was to just carry on.

“Well, perhaps I should peruse it,” said Jack as he gently unwrinkled the paper and began to read. “Oh! So? This is very sweet and..." He stopped when he saw that Mr. Butler was studying him. "Hmm… I wonder why she didn’t send it?” He asked in a business-like manner.

“Pride, sir?”

“Perhaps.”

“If I may say so, you are both strong, independent personalities with steel in your cores. I admire you both most sincerely. Still pride goeth before the fall, as they say.”

“What are suggesting? That I swallow my pride?”

“No, sir. But, consider what Rilke says about leaping ‘across the hurdles of our wishes’ and ‘invading one another’s boundaries’.

“Pride being the hurdle and estrangement being the boundary? Well, what is your wish, Toby?”

"Mr. Jack, would you be able to visit for a nightcap and put an end to the endless Italian opera excerpts? I don’t mean to complain, but I’ve heard ‘La Donna e Mobile’ so much that my nerves are shattered. I put salt in the sugar bowl. I used tooth powder to polish the silver. I seriously considered hoovering over some of the recordings accidentally on purpose. And, yesterday my souffle fell while some thunderous finale proclaimed the end to love. And why it takes cymbals and high C’s to declare it, I just don't know. I am considering resigning if this continues. Please can you help me?” Mr. Butler looked quite overwrought and desperate as he spoke.

“Yes. Yes, of course. Don’t distress yourself.”

“Thank you, sir. Now, if you would, just go around to the front of the house. I’ll let you in, and announce you. And, here, take this as a prop.” He shoved a bottle of wine into Jack’s hands. “And, you won’t mention the letter will you?”

Jack gave a quick smile. “Is your employer’s obsession with Italian opera a recent habit?”

“It dates from the time Miss Fisher entered the house, slammed the front door, and called out to Dorothy: 'He’s eating Italian! And, he never told me!' I had no idea what she meant. But, from thence forward it’s been as I described to you.”

“Very well, Toby. For your sake, I will bite the bullet and make an appearance.”

“Thank you, Mr Jack. Oh, one thing more. Miss Williams is visiting her aunt and will be gone until late in the afternoon, in case you’re interested.”

Jack gave a curt nod of understanding and exited the kitchen with the wine bottle, a buoyant step and happy anticipation on his face.

The forged letter was the icing on the cake, Mr Butler reflected. But, the trembling hands and single tear in the corner of his eye as he told his tale of woe were important ingredients. Now, to finish that tray of delicacies to send upstairs when Miss Fisher called for it. She and her Inspector would need sustenance to prolong their reunion. Oysters were definitely called for.

He hummed 'La Donna e Mobile' as he waited. He wondered what time the lovely Molly, at the Blue Moon Tavern, ended her shift. Playing Cupid always made him feel frisky. Perhaps she’d be interested in some Chardonnay and a shag later tonight?

But, first he should perfect the expression he would use when he answered the door and acted surprised to see the Inspector.


End file.
